Like so many others around the world, I was overjoyed to hear of the recent decision of the Vatican to canonize Mother Teresa, a woman generally recognized, during her lifetime, to be a "living saint." Mother Teresa first came to my attention through Malcolm Muggeridge's film and attendant book Something Beautiful for God. Of course Muggeridge showed Mother's work with the dying and the poorest of the poor on the streets of Kolkata, but what moved me the most were the images of the saint's smile amidst so much squalor and suffering. She was a very bright light shining in exceptionally thick darkness.

Mother's life reveals so many aspects and profiles of holiness, but I would like to focus on three of them. First, she shows something remarkable about love, which is not a sentiment but rather willing the good of the other. I think it is fair to say that Mother Teresa went to extremes in demonstrating love in this proper sense. She renounced practically everything that, in the opinion of the world, makes life pleasant -- wealth, material goods, power, comforts, luxuries -- in order to be of service to those in need. Further, for decades, she personally reached out to the most vulnerable in one of the worst slums in the world and sent her sisters to some of the most disagreeable places on the planet. Most of us, I imagine, manage to love to a degree, but few ever express this theological virtue more dramatically and radically than she did. This is not simply admirable, it constitutes a crucial witness to the nature of love. Unlike the other virtues, both natural and theological, love has no limit. Justice, limitlessly expressed, excludes all mercy; too much temperance becomes a fussy puritanism; exaggerated courage is rashness; unlimited faith is credulity; infinite hope devolves into presumption. But there can never be too much love; there is never a time when love is inappropriate, for love is what God is, and love constitutes the very life of heaven. Mind you, in heaven there is no need for faith and hope fades away. But in that supremely holy place, love remains in all of its infinite intensity and radicality. Mother Teresa's way of life, accordingly, is an icon of the love that will obtain in heaven, when we are drawn utterly into the very life of God.

A second feature of Mother's holiness is her dedication to prayer. When I visited the Mother House of the Missionaries of Charity in Kolkata some years ago, what impressed me most was a life-size statue of Mother Teresa in the very back of the chapel, in the attitude she customarily assumed when she prayed: legs folded under her, palms facing upward, head bowed. From the very beginning of her community, Mother insisted that her sisters should engage in substantial amounts of prayer every day; and in time, she established a branch of her order dedicated exclusively to contemplative prayer. She understood something that is essential to the Christian spiritual life, namely, that the kind of love she and her sisters endeavored to practice could come only through the grace of God, only as a sheer gift. To get that gift, it was necessary to ask, to ask again, to beg one's whole life long. Without this explicit connection to God and his purposes, their work, she knew, would turn into mere do-goodism, and the egos of her sisters would inevitably assert themselves. Saints, those who embody the love that God is, are necessarily beggars.

I remarked above that Mother Teresa struck me as a light in the shadows. How mysterious, therefore, that she herself once said, "If I ever become a saint, I will surely be a saint of darkness." She was referring to something that only a handful of people knew in her lifetime, that for upwards of fifty years, Mother Teresa experienced the pain of the absence of God. The living saint often felt abandoned by God or even that God does not exist. Once a visiting bishop was kneeling in prayer before the Blessed Sacrament with Mother and her nuns. A note was passed to him from the saintly foundress, which read, to his infinite surprise, "Where is Jesus?" That she lived through this crucible for decades, even as people routinely saw her as the very paragon of holiness, shows forth a third dimension of her saintliness. To be a saint is to allow Christ to live his life in you. Indeed, St. Paul said, "It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me;" and this means the wholeChrist. Jesus was a person of service to the poor and needy, and Mother certainly embodied this aspect of his life; Jesus was a person who prayed intently and for long periods of time, and Mother participated in this dimension of his existence. But Jesus was also the crucified Lord, who said, at the limit of his suffering, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" To allow Christ to live his life in you is, therefore, necessarily to experience, to one degree or another, the absence of God, to undergo the agony of the crucifixion in all of its dimensions. St. John of the Cross, the greatest mystical theologian in the Church's history said, quite simply, that there is no path to holiness that does not lead through the cross. Though it is a high paradox, the fifty-year darkness that Mother endured is, therefore, one of the surest indicators of her saintliness.

Saints exist for the Church, for in them we see the very raison d'etre of the Church, and this is why canonizations are always joyful affairs. So let us rejoice in this new saint whose love, prayer, and very darkness, are light for us.

“He comes to us as One unknown, without a name, as of old, by the lakeside, He came to those who knew Him not. He speaks to us the same word: “Follow thou me!” and sets us the tasks which he has to fulfill for our time. He commands. And to those who obey Him, whether they be wise or simple, He will reveal Himself in the toils, the conflicts, the sufferings which they will pass through in his fellowship, and, as an ineffable mystery, they shall learn in their own experience Who He is.”
Albert Schweitzer

So many remarks in this article testify to the Presence and Aid of God in Mother Teresa’s life. How could she then claim otherwise?

For example: “Mother Teresa’s way of life, accordingly, ‘is an icon of the love that will obtain in heaven, when we are drawn utterly into the very life of God.’”

“She understood something that is essential to the Christian spiritual life, namely, that the kind of love she and her sisters endeavored to practice ‘could come only through the grace of God, only as a sheer gift.’ Without ‘this explicit connection to God and his purposes,’ their work, she knew, would turn into mere do-goodism.”

When God gives His Aid and Gifts—-He is doing far more than paying attention. However, because of the love the contemplative feels for God—-there is a great longing to “see” the Face of God—-but no human “can see God and live.” It is part of being a contemplative that can only be assuaged in heaven when we are able to “see God clearly.” (This can be compared to a kind of purgatory on earth—-for being deprived of the sight of God is the suffering felt by those in purgatory—-but what the contemplative feels is remedied—-lessened by God and is not nearly so acute.)

Bishop Barron wrote: “...unlimited faith is credulity; infinite hope devolves into presumption. But there can never be too much love; there is never a time when love is inappropriate, for love is what God is, and love constitutes the very life of heaven. Mind you, in heaven there is no need for faith and hope fades away.”

We “humans” are still on earth. I agree that we are able to love others only because of our love for God. But I submit that faith is essential in order to know God and to realize His Presence.

Mother Teresa worked not only with the poorest and most unfortunate in society—-she worked with those whose condition was so terrible—-most humans would not be able to “stomach” it—-to bear or tolerate it.

“With God, all things are possible”—-and it was God who made her work possible—-as He made it possible for St. Peter and St. Paul to walk willingly to their crucifixions and so many other saints to endure what they endured or to do the work they completed in their lifetimes. It is said that God does not send us any trials that are too difficult for us to endure—-and I believe it means that God makes our suffering and trials possible.

St. John of the Cross—-“The Dark Night”—-explains that just as the brilliance of the sun can blind us—-bringing darkness—-so does the brilliant light of God’s Presence—-we find God in the darkness. He also tells us that when God has finished purging the person’s memory, understanding, will, and soul—-and the person has finally reached the highest plateau possible on earth—-any path the person chooses to take will be the right path. At that point—-it is understood that it is God (in them) who is choosing and walking the path. I cannot understand why Mother Teresa at some point in her life did not understand that or no one was able to explain it to her. The darkness she thought was God’s absence was actually God’s Presence.

Even we imperfect humans can love those who disappoint us and let us down. “Faith” tells me that God who is “all love” cannot “abandon” His holy children or even His unholy children.

Posted by susan d on Saturday, Jan, 9, 2016 11:37 PM (EDT):

Dear Xavier Abraham, well said! Thank you for your comment!

Posted by Xavier Abraham on Friday, Jan, 8, 2016 3:51 PM (EDT):

There was a time in my life when I asked before a crucifix, “Where are you ?”. In retrospect, it wasn’t the case that I lost my faith, rather I was in need of an answer when it seemed God had abandoned me. The lamentation came from the deep bottom of my heart, faithful and in complete surrender to God, but having stretched and tested to purify. Of course, God does answer, but His ways are mysterious that we cannot know. I would say Mother Teresa is even more sparking because of her “darkness” because she is a gold refined by intense fire.

Posted by susan d on Wednesday, Jan, 6, 2016 9:48 PM (EDT):

Dear JG, you have voiced the reason behind why we humans do not “make” saints, but only recognize them. God wants her to be a saint, so He granted the miracles that came as a result of prayers for her intercession. This is not a decision of the Church, but of God.

Whatever quotations of hers that may be brought up in accusation against her, God has clearly been pleased with her life.

But maybe she won’t become a doctor of the Church!

Posted by anna lisa on Wednesday, Jan, 6, 2016 7:59 PM (EDT):

Sarah,
“My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?” Proves to me that there is no torture that Jesus did not endure. Spiritual torture is worse than physical torture. He couldn’t have emptied the cup of suffering unless he had been emptied of his divine knowledge. Dying in complete darkness means he drank the cup of suffering to the worst and most bitter dregs. There is no man or woman who can face Him in the next life and say that their spiritual darkness was greater than His. I can’t think of anything worse than total atheism, without even a glimmer of light. Many of the atheists I have spoken with often back peddle and admit that they have hope in “something more”.
.
How appropriate that Mother Teresa should be the patron saint of our dark era—no visions, unions, spiritual betrothal, ecstasies or levitation for *this* Teresa.

Posted by JG on Wednesday, Jan, 6, 2016 4:00 PM (EDT):

Agnes was many things, worthy of Catholic Sainthood she most certainly is not. Her apostasy, heresy, and moral relativism make her wholly unqualified for sainthood.

“There is only one God and He is God to all; therefore it is important that everyone is seen as equal before God. I’ve always said we should help a Hindu become a better Hindu, a Muslim become a better Muslim, and a Catholic become a better Catholic.”

“Some call Him Ishwar, some call Him Allah, some simply God, but we have to acknowledge that it is He who made us for greater things: to love and be loved. What matters is that we love. We cannot love without prayer, and so whatever religion we are, we must pray together.”

“I love all religions… If people become better Hindus, better Muslims, better Buddhists by our acts of love, then there is something else growing there.”

Posted by sarah mac on Wednesday, Jan, 6, 2016 11:21 AM (EDT):

I struggled for years to understand why Jesus would say God abandoned Him. How could God abandon Him if they were united in one? I was reading the passage in the gospel and saw in my study Bible that Jesus was actually quoting psalm 22. If you want to understand what Jesus truly meant - read the WHOLE psalm. It makes perfect sense that He only spoke the one line, as He was being slowly suffocated, rather than reciting the entire passage. But the end of the psalm is the answer.

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Bishop Robert Barron is an auxiliary bishop of the Archdiocese of Los Angeles, the founder of Word on Fire Catholic Ministries and the host of CATHOLICISM, a groundbreaking, award winning documentary about the Catholic Faith. He received a Master’s Degree in Philosophy from the Catholic University of America (1982) and a doctorate in Sacred Theology from the Institut Catholique de Paris (1992).

He has published numerous books, essays, and articles on theology and the spiritual life. He has also appeared on several media outlets including NBC, PBS, FOX News, CNN, and EWTN. His website, WordOnFire.org, has reached over 3.8 million people and his weekly YouTube videos have been viewed over nine million times. His pioneering work in evangelizing through the new media led the late Cardinal Francis George to describe him as “one of the Church’s best messengers.”

He was consecrated an auxiliary bishop of the Archdiocese of Los Angeles on Sept. 8, 2015.